From Loch Ness to Pompidou

Two separate trips from Israel this summer, with two grandchildren--Itay's bar mitzvah trip to Scotland and Noa's bat mitzvah present to Paris. They both confirmed that as long as our strength holds out, this is an ideal opportunity at an ideal age to learn who our grandchildren are and to discover hints of who they will be. I suppose they also learn who we are and what matters to us.
People keep asking: "Who decides where you go, you or the child?" We decide. We have made four such trips to date. The destination hinges on a combination of what we think the grandchild would like, what we want to do, and what opportunities come up that will control the cost.

Usually we plan, read, suggest and decide what happens each day. But there always seems to be something that's an "I must see the ..." For Noa hers led to standing two hours waiting in chilly drizzle on our last day in Paris to get into the elevator to the first level of the Eiffel Tower (a compromise with going to the very top). With Itay it was Loch Ness of monster fame that became part of our one day with a car and driver on our rainiest, most overcast day in the Highlands.

Specially memorable are the totally unexpected: Itay's patience, caring and understanding when Max ended up overnite in the Ft William hospital with a probable kidney stone. While I negotiated and waited for Max's dismissal papers in the morning Itay spent half the day alone at our B&B.(Max ended up fine but we missed some hours in Edinburgh and a Highland Games experience.)

A Noa moment was when she stood contemplating a piece of typographic art at the Pompidou Center museum of modern art and compared its roughness that she liked with what she achieved in her bat mitzvah invitation's purple pomegranates.

We have 7 more grandchildren to go in the next 8 years. Challenging to think about a precedent no one wants to break.